


Words

by rightonthelimit



Series: Tom/Harry Drabble Collection [30]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fingering, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom has his way with words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> 100th HP fic! Let's celebrate with some porn!

**A/N: **Please do not repost, recreate or translate.****

**Words**

Tom Riddle knew his way with words.

This was well known between friends and foes, employees and business partners. He knew how to threaten, coax, convince, and order them all into doing whatever he pleased and he played them all like puppets. The world was at his feet and he had always been a man with a plan.

There was just something about the combination of his British accent, his low voice, the way his mouth shaped the words and how he just seemed to _know_ exactly what words to use that always made him get whatever the hell he wanted. He didn’t stutter, didn’t stammer and was rarely at a loss for words.

And that was just the side of Tom that the outside world got to see.

They never saw the Tom behind shut doors, the Tom who wasn’t on top of his game - the Tom who was stripped off his responsibilities, and his clothes.

No, behind the locked door of his bedroom his words changed.

They were still meaningful and to the point yet way less thought through. Utter filth, filth that spurs his lover on even against his own will, filth that can always make Harry Potter reduce to begging.

Now would be one of those moments.

‘Tom,’ Harry Potter breathed. He didn’t stand as straight as he normally did, didn’t have that intelligent look in his eyes that he normally did. Harry Potter didn’t have any fight left in him – had been teased for what felt like forever.

He closed his eyes and whined, while Tom’s hand tightened around his cock.

Admittedly he could have fought harder.

It were always those goddamn words that started everything. It started out small and innocent. It always did.

‘ _You look pretty, love_ , _’_ Tom would compliment him at the dinner table at first, knowing that even if it was a stab at Harry’s male pride, it was also going straight to Harry’s inner love depraved child. Harry loved the attention - loved getting attention from boys, girls, Tom’s parents… Having grown up with little to no love in his life, even initial unwanted attention was hard to deny.

Harry just really, _really_ wanted to be seen. And that sometimes pissed Tom off.

‘ _Would you like them to watch while I fuck you into the ground as well, Harry?_ ’ he’d ask, cruelly, words sending flustered heat through Harry, ‘ _is my cock not enough? Do you need more to sate your needs? I had never known you were so_ lewd _. You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you, cockslut?_ ’

And Harry thought that the worst about it all was that it turned him on. Not what Tom was suggesting – no, he’d never want to allow anyone to see this, because this was sacred to him. This was them loving each other in the best dirty way possible – but just the mental images.

God, the images.

Because when Tom spoke like that, Harry could nearly see it – was just so close to _feeling_ it. and combined with the orgasms Tom constantly denied him with… They were just killing him. Tom was wrecking him.

_‘Want me in you, pretty? Want me to stretch you open nice and wide until no one would want you anymore? Want me to come inside of you?’_

‘Oh God, Tom, you fucking bastard-’ Harry sobbed, nails digging in the palms of his hands when Tom’s hand left his cock.

His hands were tied over his head, his legs were spread and Tom’s fingers slipped from where they had been preparing Harry. He whimpered in loss, toes curling.

And that fucking bastard always did this to him.

He always made Harry beg. Tom knew how to make Harry Potter fall apart, come undone, moan and whimper and sob and beg and he’d probably be the only one when it came to that as well.

 _‘_ _Do you even know how dirty you look like that?’_ Tom asked, and no, Harry didn’t know and he preferred to remain unaware because if he’d find out how he looked right now he was certain he’d die of shame. _‘You look so ready for me… you look like you’re just_ _aching for it.’_

Harry was. He was aching for it and his cock was straining against his belly, his entrance clenching on thin air. _‘Are you, Harry? Do you want me to fuck you?’_

Words failed Harry, because out of the two of them Harry always had believed that actions spoke louder than words. Tom looked actually frustrated with Harry’s lack of response and for a moment Harry panicked when Tom leaned away from the bed, grabbing his phone.

‘W-what are you doing?’ Harry asked. Tom smirked and showed him a timer.

‘If you’re so keen on keeping silent, fine. Two can play this game.’

Harry stared at him in confusion, shivering when Tom leaned over him. his lips ghosted over Harry’s ear. ‘If you keep silent for two minutes, I’ll fuck you. Every time you make a noise, I’ll reset the timer and we start all over again.’

But sometimes, honestly, Tom was terribly cruel.

 


End file.
